This is War
by ShadowedSoulSpirit
Summary: A declaration of war comes when the King of Clubs, a power hungry man by the name of Ivan murders the Queen of Spades, Arthur. Alfred seeks revenge for his lover's death, and in the process will murder the other three Queens to prevent a replacement. A story of love, loss, and war within the Four Kingdoms of the Cards. Rated M for language, death, and slight lemon. Cardverse AU.
1. The Contents of the Coffin

**This is War**

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**A Cardverse Hetalia story.**

**Summary: A declaration of war comes when the King of Clubs, a power hungry man by the name of Ivan murders the Queen of Spades, Arthur. Alfred seeks revenge for his lover's death, and in the process will murder the other three Queens to prevent a replacement. A story of love, loss, and war within the Four Kingdoms of the Cards.**

**Warning: Rated M for language, lemon-ish encounters, character death, and heavy sadness. Pairings included at the moment are USUK, GerIta, LietPol, a one-sided AustriaHungary and PrussiaHungary, and RussiaChina if you squint and tilt your head. Possible future pairings. Human names are used.**

**Note: While some character remains the same, I have changed a few positions while adding my own. You don't have to have prior knowledge of Cardverse to read this Fanfiction.**

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**Chapter One: The Contents of the Coffin**

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The procession marches solemnly through the condensation assaulting their faces; their helmets do little to protect their vision, causing the world to be a distorted mess of bleak colors running together. Somber clouds roll in, darkening the sky like a sheet over the sun. The ashy grey that occasionally staggers into a slate color swirls together with a midnight blue that could only originate from one place.

The King.

Shadows stretch across the land, expanding themselves from the feet of the marching soldiers. Each thump stomps against the ground like the armor that hardly fits anymore. It is a depressing sound, accompanied by the occasional sigh or grunt when their feet cannot find purchase on the ground. All their faces are gaunt, as if they are skeletons in human skin. They have no expression, even when their armor pinches their skin or their helmets thunk the back of their neck. The air permeates with sadness, as if it is a tangible thing. Along with the heavy flow of rainwater pouring down from the heavens, it is a combination that twists and curls the weak stomachs of the younger soldiers.

An ebony black begins to coil in the sky along with the blues and greys, making the ground appear as one flat obsidian surface: Endless in both directions. No one dares to speak, not even cough when the chill of the rain rattles their bones. Each precise step is right behind the other, the two lines in perfect synchronization. It is imperative that they are.

They are carrying a coffin after all.

Holding the open casket at hip level, the nine soldiers responsible for the transportation could feel their wrists straining from maintaining such a position. Some soldiers turn to watch their wrists quiver, while others sadly admire the beautifully crafted box. It is handcrafted, the intricate lines weaving in and out of each other to form _that _symbol, the symbol that decorates the entire funeral procession. The dark wood contrasts against the ground, making it the most noticeable thing in the turmoil of the storm. Ten other soldiers follow closely behind, flanked by another parade of guards; these are totting the extravagant lid where the image of the deceased is etched into the wood.

It would be strange to say nine people are carrying a filled coffin while ten are carting a weightless slab of wood. The reason behind this is simple. The tenth soldier, who isn't even a soldier at all, is walking close to the coffin—not to help tote it, but to rest his hand on the folded pair of the dead. His glasses are speckled with the rain water, hindering his vision only slightly. His dark cobalt jacket weakly clings to the remainder of his clothes, making him appear shrunken in his own attire. His hair is plastered to his face, emphasizing the upmost grief present in the furrow of his eyebrows and the quiver of his lip. He has been out in the rain longer than any of the other souls marching with him to the grave site.

His pale blue eyes are clouded, no longer graced with a quality that _he_ had compared to the waters and the skies. At the very thought, his heart shatters even more, making him grasp the lifeless fingers tightly. In this world, it is only him and the contents of the coffin, and no one else. Everybody loved the man in the casket, but not as much as him. Their relationship is so much more, more than a simple King and Queen appearance. There is a true spark of love that in the wake of his death has abruptly been extinguished. The King still loves his Queen, but now it is under different circumstances, because he can't hold his beloved Queen when they danced the night away. He couldn't kiss him good night or tell him how much he loved him. That right was taken away from him.

The contents of the box are even more distressing than the world is, as if it is succumbing to the King's grief as well. In perfect stillness lies a man, his pale skin smooth and unblemished. Dark blue roses surround him, their petals softly caressing him in his eternal slumber. If the white material of his bow had not been guarding his neck, the King knows what he would find; yet he wishes he did not.

His dull blond hair halos around him, a small top hat cocked on one corner of his head. His face is slack, as emotionless as the soldiers, bearing no signs of pain during death. The King reaches up to caress his jaw lovingly, whispering they have almost arrived to their destination. He wishes for nothing more than for life to jump back into him, so he could see those magnificent emerald eyes again.

_Just one more time. _He pleads.

It never happens.

His hand settles back on the folded pair of his Queen's, tracing the tattoo found there. It is their symbol, the symbol of the Kingdom they built together. It encompasses the entire back side of his hand, from knuckle to wrist with a soft black ink threading in and over itself.

The King bares a similar mark, a mirrored image of his Queen's; only on a different location on his body.

The rainwater seems gentler as it drips onto his face, clumping his eyelashes together to make them darker. The King thinks about how even in death, his Queen could look so poised and beautiful. He almost laughs at the memory of him constantly nagging his posture and sloppy tendencies. How he misses it already. Nevertheless a strangled chuckle leaves his lips as he reaches up to rid his eyes of the tears collecting there.

A soldier rushes up to the King, softly tapping his shoulder.

"The Jack has arrived, sir." Is all he says before falling back in line.

The King sees the flash of the emblem they all bare before he sees the person acclaimed as the Jack. His brown hair is pulled into a disheveled mess, darker in some places due to the rain. His outfit is hastily thrown on, as if he was rushed out of the bed in order to attend.

"What in the world happened, aru?!" The Jack demands, casting his frightened gaze on the dead Queen amongst the flowers.

His eyes connect with the blue eyes of the King, practically dead in their sockets. He doesn't provide an explanation at first.

The King could see the flashes, the pulsation of memories before his eyes. It dances across his vision like it is mocking him.

"He tried to protect me…"

"Try to protect you from what?" The Jack clasps the King's shoulder in his hand, forcing him to face him.

He has to know who is responsible. It couldn't be…

"Ivan. Ivan was trying to get me." His eyes widen.

"No…" He breaths.

Not Ivan. It couldn't have been Ivan that killed their queen. It is practically a declaration of war. The Jack did not want to do that. His mind is reeling, not wanting to accept the information given to him.

"What will you do…?"

"I'm going to bury my lover." The King bluntly states.

The Jack opens his mouth, prepared to correct his question, before he closes it again. He nods his head once, before bowing in respect as he lets the caravan pass him. His eyes locate the sky, watching the heavens cry at such a bitter loss. The Jack's eyes flutter to a close, the rainwater gently kissing the exposed skin of his face.

"What will become of us now…" He whispers, seeking answers from the grimy clouds, "With the Queen dead, a terrible war is lurking nearby."

He clasps his hands together in prayer, whispering in a foreign language uncommon in those parts before speaking again, "It will be the end of both our kingdoms…"

When the procession reaches the pre-dug grave, the weary soldiers lower the casket beside the soon to be resting place, stepping back to allow their King the room he needs. The King lowers himself to his knees, staining his well-made clothes with the sticky mud, causing goose bumps to rise along his skin. He gently pulls the hand with the tattoo on it, pressing his lips against the inked skin lovingly. He intertwines his fingers with the lifeless one, feeling the cold nip that death brought. He leans over him, blocking the rain from his Queen as he kisses him one last time, trying to make up for the kisses he never got to steal. He brushes a few strands of hair from his face, stroking the soft skin as if it is a piece of fragile glass. The soldiers wait patiently as their King stands up, and removing his jacket, places it over the corpse of his deceased lover. He tucks the Queen in, pulling a few flowers to sit on top of the fabric.

"I love you…" He whispers softly, stealing one last caress of his face before stepping back completely.

The soldiers lower the lid, nailing it shut before more rainwater could dampen it. The King watches as they lift the coffin and dip it down into the grave, marking the place where the Queen will eternally rest.

"Good night." The military personal begin to fill the grave, covering up the dark wood in seconds.

"You will live on in my heart… forever and ever… even in death do we part." The King repeats the wedding vow he took that day; that beautiful day he took the Queen to be his and his alone. A bitter laugh escapes him at the thought of it. That is today isn't it?

Time is cruel, he decides. Too cruel.

Casting one last glance at the fresh grave, he looks at the commander of the regime of men that dutifully carried their Queen. The commander salutes even when his hand protests with cramps.

"I want you to gather everyone. Every soldier, every man over the age of sixteen." The soldier is taken a back by the dark aura slowly creeping around their beloved King, "We are going to Ivan's country soon."

"W-what are you planning to do when we head out for his country?" He coughs at his stutter, awaiting further orders rather nervously.

"Burn it to the ground."

Fearing repercussion, the commander barks his order to the rest of the soldiers. They quickly retreat the way they came, intent on pleasing their King and avenging their Queen as well.

The King runs his fingers through his hair, sighing shakingly as his knees buckle underneath him. He falls onto the grave, feeling every last bit of his strength being sapped from his body. Now, in the presence of himself alone, he breaks down, digging his hands into the mud like he hopes he could reach his Queen. His tears run freely down his face, mixing with the rainwater as his glasses begin to slip down his nose. His fists retract from the ground before going back as he repeatedly punches the ground in anguish.

"Come back!" He cries, his vision bobbling until everything is a blurred mess, "You swore you wouldn't leave me! Come back!"

He lays his head against the ground, feeling his heartbeat feverishly pounding in his chest as he brokenly whispers, "I love you…"

The King stays just like this, even when the rain has long since passed and the pale rays of the sun came to shine. He does not move an inch away from the grave. Not even with the Jack came to pay his respects, he did not move. People came and went, but the King didn't have the dignity to get up. Not until a voice rings in his ears like nails on a chalkboard, grating his emotions.

"So he finally got himself killed, eh?" The King snaps up, feeling his blood boil the instant he recognizes the voice.

He turns to the symboless Joker, despising that smirk the moment he spots it.

"What the hell do you want?" He growls, clenching his fists.

"I was just wondering if the rumors were true. You have my brother's condolences. It's not very often a Queen dies so brutally."

The King grits his teeth, refraining himself from speaking as the Joker continues.

"What are you going to do about it? The replacement I mean?"

"No one replaces my Queen."

The Joker laughs at such a comment, "You don't get a choice my dear King. The spade chooses who it wants."

"I don't want another queen. I want _my _queen!"

"Too bad I'm afraid. You are getting a replacement whether you like it or not. It'll be interesting who it'll choose."

"I don't want another queen." He repeats angrily.

"You are getting one~" The King launches a fist at him but the Joker is quick to dodge. He mockingly pokes the fist when it stops, just short of his face.

"They are sending the Aces over. You better get prepped for it or they won't decide in your favor."

The King is getting fed up with the sick and twisted way the Joker is attempting to help him. Casting a heated glance his way, he jabs a finger hard into his chest.

"Get out of my Kingdom." He mutters darkly.

With a laugh, the Joker answers his demand and suddenly disappears. The King rubs his eyes, feeling the burn of fatigue and the rush of reappearing emotions sting his eyes. No matter how much he hated the albino Joker, he knew he is right. He has to prepare for the arrival of the Aces.

The castle is dark and gloomy the moment its ruler returns home queenless. It truly feels empty now without his Queen's presence to lighten the atmosphere. Maids rush to his aid, attempting to help their King, but he simply brushes them off. He has one maid start him a bath, which he is quick to peel his clothes off and dip into. It is warm, blazing his skin to a healthy temperature than what nature had maintained. He lets his head rest on the rim of the tub as the rest of his body sinks underneath the bubbles. His whole body aches but not as much as his heart. He is hurting so much just imagining he would never see that beautiful smile again. He could never feel the warmth against his skin or the lips against his own. He could never hear the 'I love you's from his perfect mouth. He has lost his other half. Someone will pay for it; he is sure of that.

He sinks his head under water several times, glasses and all, not only to wake him up, but to rid him of the mud clumping his hair. He runs his fingers over his strained muscles, scrubbing his skin of the dirt that managed to worm its way into his clothes. He feels numb, as if this is only a bad dream and nothing more.

No matter how many times he splashes his face with water however, he would not wake up.

When he finally decides to get out, clothes are already waiting for him. He pulls them onto his body, half expecting a certain someone to come up behind him, helping him to get ready for an important meeting. It never happens. No pair of hands come up to help him button his clothes or guide his jacket over his shoulders. No one reaches out to take his glasses and clean them, and then after gently pecks his cheek with a kiss. He already misses every little thing his Queen did for him to show how much he loved him. He could just imagine the svelte body leaning into his arms—

His fantasy is cut short when there is a rap at the door.

"What?" He asks, hastily pulling on his shoes.

"The Aces request your presence sir. The Jack is currently speaking with them."

"Alright… I'll be there in a moment." Shaking his head, he gives himself a once over. If anything, right now is the time to control himself, and his emotions.

He leaves the bathroom, walking down the elegant grand staircase that sweeps the entry way with an expansion of dark marble floor. There, awaiting his arrival at the oak door bearing the symbol of a Spade, are the four Aces.

"Alfred…?" The Ace of Hearts is quick to correct himself, "I mean King Alfred… how are you?"

The King manages a pitiful smile at the sight of his brother Matthew. The Aces are the people that would take no side in war. His brother does not let this fact separate them. The same would go for the Ace of Spades. He and his… former Queen were best friends.

"I am fine." Alfred lies, something Matthew picks up on instantly.

"We have reason to believe you want to start a war." The Ace of Spades cuts to the chase, "Is it so?"

"By war do you mean brutally massacring the Club country? Then ya, I do." The Jack is alarmed to hear his King saying such a thing with a calm demeanor.

"Do you have justification for said war?"

The four Aces are all about balance. They maintain it in order for other countries to be unable to annihilate others. In special cases however, they would consider a battle to decide the fate of the two Kingdoms. Whether or not they accept it, the King decides, he would advance into the Club's country nonetheless.

Raising his head to meet the challenging gaze of the Ace, he responds, "The King of Clubs, Ivan Braginsky murdered my Queen before my eyes. I have justification."

For a moment, Alfred could see a flash of surprise in his frozen eyes. He hadn't been expecting such an answer.

"H-he killed A-Arthur?" The Ace of Clubs stutters, staring at the King with wide eyes as if he is some broke object.

"You can see him in his grave."

The Ace of Clubs takes a step forward, wanting to provide comfort but forces himself to remain neutral. Sometimes being an Ace is harder than being a King.

"I am sorry for your loss." The Ace of Spades consoles, "I can imagine the loss is unbearable."

"Unbearable indeed."

"Who will be the new Queen?" The Ace of Diamonds inquires.

"We do not know." The Jack answers.

"Why can't I just have no Queen? I don't want another one." Alfred says bitterly.

His only explanation comes from the Ace of Spades. It is such a textbook answer that it angers him.

"It'll upset the balance."

"Alright how about I go and murder all the other Queens."

"Then the balance will be partially restored."

"Good enough for me."

"You can't be serious my King. You can't just slaughter the other Queens. And besides don't you have good relations with the Queen of Hearts?" The Jack is related to the Queen, not only that, but it is his King's best friend. He couldn't just allow his King to murder him in his anger.

"I refuse to replace my Queen." He plainly states.

"Discuss these plots later." The Ace of Spades snaps, "You have a war to prepare for don't you?"

Alfred numbly nods his head. The Aces accept the declaration of war.

"Good luck. And may your queen rest in peace."

Once the Aces left, the Jack grasps his King by the arm, bewildered with his sudden change in character.

"You can't really be plotting to do this Alfred! You are the King of Spades because you don't let the mass amount of power go to your head. Arthur would not want you to murder his friends just because you can't accept another Queen!"

"Arthur's dead, Wang Yao. It doesn't matter what he wants."

The Jack gasps. His King has gone insane. Alfred starts to walk away.

"As your Jack," He regrips his arm again, "And your friend, I wouldn't recommend you do this." Alfred yanks his arm away, "You're upset right now. It's understandable. But if you do anything now, you'll regret it later and you can never take it back."

"I am King. My word is absolute. Obey me, or you'll be dead like Arthur."

Wang Yao snaps. He slaps his King across the cheek, satisfied only when he hears a loud pop and a hand shape welt appears on his face. The King is frozen for a moment or two, reaching up to gently touch the tender skin before he lowers his hand again. It would seem as if the Jack has finally knocked some reasoning back into him.

How wrong he is.

"Guards!" Armored men come to his aid, weapons drawn for a possible enemy to be about. Instead, the only people they see are the King and his loyal Jack.

"Arrest the Jack." The guards hesitate briefly, wondering if they had heard him right.

"ARREST HIM!" He roars, causing the guards to scramble to latch onto the Jack.

He struggles, all in vein.

"Don't do this Alfred! You'll regret it! Don't!" Wang Yao's reasoning is lost on the King. He shows no emotions as they drag the Jack away, intending to lock him up for Alfred's sake.

Pacing back and forth across the threshold, Alfred's thoughts jumble into a huge mess within his mind. Only a few things come crystal clear to him:

His queen is dead.

The King of Clubs is behind it.

This is war.

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**How is it so far?**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	2. An Old King, A New Queen

**This is War**

**A Cardverse story.**

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**Chapter Two: An Old King, A New Queen **

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"Alfred…" His Queen is beside him, cradling his head in his lap.

He lovingly soothes his dexterous fingers through his soft hair, twirling a few pieces in his hands. He bends over, only further showing his flexibility as he presses his pale lips to the King's forehead. A grin splits Alfred's face from ear to ear as he reaches up, cupping the head with his arm. He pulls him closer, not satisfied with a simple peck. Their lips connect sweetly, moving together like two dancers, knowing what the other partner is going to do before he did it. The Queen breaks away first but remains close, his lips ghosting over the King's as he whispers again.

"Alfred…"

The King tangles his own fingers into the Queen's luscious hair, reveling in the feeling of the soft strands clinging to his skin. It all feels right, perfect. Everything is how it should be again.

"Alfred."

The warm breath gently touches his face, heightening his senses. The terrible nightmare of the burial is no more. Instead, what's before his very eyes is beautiful. It is his elegant Queen, so full of life, loving him.

"Alfred."

"What is it my love?" The King answers, allowing their lips to meet again.

"Wake up…" Came the reply, causing his brows to furrow.

"I am awake…" He gently traces his thumb along the Queen's cheek, feeling the perfect softness of his lips as he runs his finger over his plump bottom lip.

"Wake up." He repeats, ghosting his inked hand over the King's face.

"Arthur—"

"Wake up Alfred. Wake up."

His Queen is vanishing before his eyes, the background bleeding through his body to make him nearly transparent. Alarmed, the King sits up, quick to wrap his arms around the lithe figure. Frightening enough, his arms close around nothing but air. Just like that, his Queen is gone, having evaporated before he could react.

"Arthur? Arthur!" He yanks at the sheets of the bed, tearing them off as if he could find his lover hidden beneath the folds.

"Arthur where did you go?! Come back!" The memories of the contents of the coffin slap him in his stupor, jarring him awake from his nightmare.

However, he is not alone in his bedroom.

A face is hovering above him, just mere inches away from his own face as he calls the King's name again, irritated with the lack of response. Suddenly startled, the King swings at him with haste, his fist connecting with his jaw to knock him from the bed.

"What the fuck dude?!" The perpetrator groans, having landed on the ground rather roughly.

There is good reason why the King of the powerhouse country is Alfred F. Jones.

The King narrows his eyes, "What do you want, Joker." He snarls, snatching his glasses from his bedside table.

He shoves them onto his face, snapping the blurry world into focus. The Joker gets to his feet, his jaw already nursing a bruise.

"Please, call me Mathias. Joker is such a trivial word."

It is a different Joker from the albino one, but Alfred hates them both the same. Having no loyalty to a particular symbol, they do as they like without repercussion.

"I'll call you whatever the hell I want. Why are you in my bed?"

A Cheshire cat grin sweeps across his face as he runs a hand through his overall dramatic hair, "Well~ Considering I don't have competition~"

The King glares daggers at the Joker, something he perceives at a glance, "In all honesty, I came to check on you." He admits, dragging a foot along the floor like a child would.

"Why."

"You just lost Arthur bro. I'm just making sure," He taps his head, "That you're in the right place."

A bitter vile rises in his throat at such a blunt reminder. The King wants nothing more than to throw up at the idea that his dream is very real. Just like that, his Queen has faded right from his arms, never to be seen again. Mathias must have sensed the change in the King, for now he speaks in a much softer tone.

"I really am sorry bro. He was a great guy… I know you loved him." Alfred could only sit numbly, hardly listening to the garble that is Mathias's voice.

"I brought you this." He holds something before the King's eyes, grabbing his attention.

It is a clock, the face cracked in four different places.

The Spade King takes it, running his fingers along the small crevasses. Turning it over, he sees the bronze back has been designed to harbor the symbol of their country. The outline of a spade frames a picture of his beloved Queen, capturing him with a soft smile of his lips. Alfred knows why it is now in his possession, in all its broken glory, the hands frozen in place. Every figure bearing a mark has a clock that ticks while they live and freezes when they die. This is Arthur's clock, forever paused at the time of his death. That however does not explain the cracks.

"Why is it broken? If you ship it Mathias, you have to handle it." The dry humor causes the Joker to chuckle.

"It's how I found it I'm afraid. It took a while to get it."

"All the clocks are in one place. It's not hard to find." He sighs at the Joker's idiocy.

"It wasn't there when I went."

Alfred's wrenches his gaze from the picture on the clock, searching Mathias's eyes for an explanation.

"It was in possession of the King of Clubs."

The King grits his teeth harder, his eyes flaring in anger, "Ivan."

Mathias nods his heads, before shrugging his shoulders, "I don't know why he had it, but that's where I found it. I thought you should have it more than him."

Alfred clutches his head tightly as the realization comes to him, "He was keeping it as a trophy."

"He could have been."

Alfred doesn't need confirmation. He _knows_ that is the truth. If Ivan could not have his body, he would have his time. Such a thing sickens the King and only adds fuel to the flame.

"I'm going to kill him…" He vows to himself aloud, warning the Joker to his intention.

"Hey now. You shouldn't be plotting murder. That's unlike you. You are stooping down to his leve—"

"Why shouldn't I kill him? He murdered my Queen." He nearly crushes the clock in his rage, pinning Mathias where he stands with just his stare.

"You're Queen killed himself."

Alfred leaps from the bed, wrapping his hand around the Joker's neck to slam him with all his strength into the wall. The Joker gasps, his head connecting hard with the surface.

"What did you just say?" His grip tightens, cutting off the air flow to his lungs.

"He killed himself." He answers airily, grappling with the King's hand in an attempt to release himself, "It was his own spell that—ahh…" Unbearably so, the grip crushes his windpipe, prohibiting another word from leaving his lips. The King has the Joker summiting to his will. He can easily kill him right now.

"Alfred." _His _voice whispers in his ear, drawing his attention away from the strangulation of the Joker.

"Don't…" He can feel the breath on his cheek, as if someone is there when they really aren't. Loosening his grasp, the King feels his heart quiver in remembrance.

"Arthur."

Mathias slips from his clutches, falling to his knees as his lungs burn in his chest. He eyes the King wearily as he gulps the precious oxygen back into his system, desperate to restore the air he lost. Alfred presses the clock to his heart, hearing nothing but its heavy, depressing beat. Why can't it be his true voice, there in his room, reprimanding him for such brutality? Why did he have to be dead?

"I can see… it's still a touchy subject…" The Joker sputters, rubbing the tender skin of his neck. There is no doubt it would soon blister into a bruise as well. Getting back onto his feet, his breathing slowly starts to even out.

"What gave you that impression?" The King sneers, rubbing his eyes to rid himself of the salty tears surfacing in his orbs.

"It's just a guess." He offers a small smile, one that Alfred doesn't return.

"I'm going to take out the Club Kingdom." He absentmindedly says, returning his attention back to the clock.

"Well, does your new Queen agree?"

"I don't want a new Queen!" The King howls, "I want my Queen!"

Mathias flinches as if he took another punch, "You don't get to decide that…"

"I do if I kill the other Queens. The Ace of Spades even confirmed it."

"Lukas? There's no way—"

"We talked yesterday. If I kill the Queens of the Kingdoms, I don't have to have one." He feels numb all over, like now he's experienced the worse and it can't get any worse than this.

"So let me get this straight. You are going to murder the other Queens, take out the Club country, and defend against a retaliation from the Hearts and the Diamonds."

"That's right."

"Alfred the moment you step foot in the other countries, you're screwed. You're going to end up dead with Arthur."

"Don't care."

Mathias sighs exasperatedly. Honestly, he feels like the only reasonable one, "You'll ruin your country."

"They'll get a new King."

"So your solution to Arthur's death is to be suicidal?!"

"Pretty much."

"God and I thought I was the idiot. Do you really think Arthur gave his life for you only for you to lose yours? The answer is no."

"You don't know what Arthur wants."

"Apparently, you don't either." He flicks the King's forehead, a little annoying tick that only pisses the King off. He grabs his wrist, twisting it hard to make the Joker yelp.

"Leave." He demands. Mathias is overstaying his welcome and quite frankly Alfred is done talking to him.

"Alfred—"

"Get out before I kill you."

The Joker whimpers, disappearing before the King can carry out his threat. Sighing, he watches for a few minutes to make sure he doesn't dare return, before leaving. Last minute, he snatches his jacket up, pulling it on to cover his bed ridden clothes. Working servants greet him as he passes, but he doesn't spare them a glance. It is completely unlike the King, who could be just as loving as the Kingdom of Hearts at times. What is even more terrifying for the servers of the Spade country is witnessing the arrest of the Jack. Alfred adores his Jack's opinion almost as dearly as his Queen's. His arrest shows how far removed he is from his former self.

"King Alfred, sir." A servant bravely speaks, stopping the King midstride, "The Ace of Clubs requires council with you."

"Denied." Alfred replies, continuing the pace he set.

"B-But…" Their voice is caught in their throat, too afraid to speak.

Alfred can hardly care what the Ace of Clubs has to say to him. More than likely, he only wants to convince him to avoid a full out war. He would never understand the pain he feels; he couldn't comprehend his reasoning for such actions. The King does not realize that the Ace is already present in the castle. He knows the King as well as the King knows the Ace. He already assumed his request would be denied and refuses to let that stop him. Alfred groans when he spots him, like he just knew the King would be taking that path.

"Alfred." The Ace greets.

"Toris." He returns, not pleased to see him.

_Why do the people I don't want to see have to be in my castle? _He inwardly exclaims. _As far as I know Ivan could be in the basement…_

"We need to talk."

Alfred goes to sidestep around him, "No we don't."

Toris catches his arm, "As friends we do."

The King sighs in resignation. He knows he could not escape the Ace of Clubs without an earful. Clutching the clock as a reminder to keep his temper in check, he turns to face Toris, waiting for him to begin his rant.

"Alfred about this war…"

"I just had a conversation with Mathias." He cuts him off, "Whether you like it or not, I'm going through with it. I want revenge."

"I understand. You have every right to be upset with Ivan, but killing all the Queens? That's selfish."

"I don't want a new one. I don't want one at all. My only Queen will be Arthur."

"Just because you'll have a new Queen doesn't mean you have to love him or her." The Ace reasons, but such ideals fall deaf on ears.

"You don't understand Toris. They are trying to replace my Arthur. My Arthur. You don't know what that feels like."

The Ace of Clubs smiles pitifully, looking at the King with a soft spark in his eye, "Actually I do."

Alfred doesn't back down. He takes it more as a challenge, moving a step closer to look down at the man.

"Oh ya? How."

Toris takes him by the arm, guiding the unwilling King to his study. Such conversations are reserved for privacy, not hallways. Shutting the door softly behind him, Toris meets the challenging gaze of the grieving King.

"It happened when the Spade chose you as King."

Alfred raises an eyebrow. He had been young at the time. He did not remember much politics from such an early age.

"What happened?" He sits himself in a chair, feeling too emotionally exhausted to remain standing while retaining the dark aura around him. He resorts to glaring at him from the luxury of his seat.

"The Civil War."

"There was no Civil War when I came into reign." The King corrects him, but the Ace simply shakes his head.

"It was the Club's Civil War." The King's posture grows rigid.

Those are the last people he wants to talk about at the moment, but nevertheless the Ace feels the necessity to tell the story.

"I suppose that was King Ivan's doing wasn't it." He mockingly says, disgusted when the name rolls off his tongue.

"Yes it was his fault," Alfred's almost satisfied he is correct, "But he was not King at the time."

"Ivan has been King as long as I have." The King points out.

"Exactly. The Club chose him the same time the Spade chose you. Except unlike you, he stole the title."

"Stole? As in, the Club didn't originally plan on having him as a ruler?"

"That is correct. The King of Clubs at the time was Feliks Łukasiewicz," Alfred recognizes the name, but from where he could not recall, "Ivan killed him and stole the symbol."

The King could see the way the Ace's body trembles against the door. They are getting into some dangerous waters because Toris only gets nervous with the most emotional truths.

"Feliks's club encompassed his eye. It truly highlighted his eye… it made it quite a beautiful sight… so it was impossible to just take the mark." His breath is starting to get shaky, Alfred notes, as his face pales.

"Ivan beheaded him and kept his head as a trophy. The Old Law dictates that if you're in possession of a dead person's symbol, you become their class. That is the only reason why he became King. It was pure luck."

"What the country is known for."

"That is beside the point." He wraps his arms around himself as if he could stop the tremors.

"I don't see how this relates to my situation Toris."

Taking a deep breath, the Ace shuts his eyes, unable to look him in the face as he says, "I loved that King, Alfred. I loved Feliks and he loved me. No one knew because they would think I gave up my neutrality and would favor the Club country. I loved him so much… and Ivan took that away from me. Except… there was no one I could turn to. No one could know my feelings for him… so unlike you, I had to deal with my grief alone. You have friends though, people that care. Everyone knows you love Arthur. I've been through what you are going through and know from experience that having friends would have been the best thing for me," He releases as bitter laugh, "But I couldn't have that. You can though."

The King is almost rendered speechless. That is something he hadn't been expecting.

"Why are you telling me this?" He meekly asks, feeling almost terrible for trying to avoid the Ace.

"I'm trying to convince you not to murder the Queens. You will be stooping lower than Ivan's level if you do. You'll be taking them away from people that love them. I know you wouldn't want to be like the man that killed you Queen." He opens his eyes again, his orbs reflecting all the pain he ever felt from such an anguishing time in his life.

"I don't want a new Queen." Alfred weakly protests.

"And I did not want a new King. But for a Kingdom to function, it must have a King, a Queen, and a Jack. We don't make up the rules Alfred. We just follow them. Nothing replaces Arthur's memory. This new Queen won't wipe his memory from the face of the earth."

The King knows it's a lie.

"Liar. It erased Feliks's memory."

"That's different—"

"It's not. I don't want another Queen and that is final. I don't want him to end up forgotten like your King!"

The Ace is stunned.

"Alfred, please reconsider—"

"Get out of my country," He snarls murderously, "I will kill the next person who tries to convince me otherwise. Now go."

Toris does not move.

"Go!"

He could feel his restraint dangling by the last thread. If he did not leave soon, Alfred would have his blood on his hands.

"So be it King Alfred." The Ace speaks formally, a sign that he is hurt by his attitude, "I hope you have a good day nevertheless."

He throws open the study doors, escaping with long strides. The King rests his head on the back of his chair, allowing the anger to slowly bleed from his system. He hardly remembers why he left his room in the first place. He lifts up the clock to his eyes, tracing his finger over the contours of his lovers face, trying to recall when such a picture could've been taken. Whenever it was, they captured the most beautiful side of him, that's for sure. Not many pictures are taken of them after all, even though they technically are royalty.

Pressing his lips to the picture, he wishes it could be Arthur's soft skin instead.

"You will be my Queen forever Arthur. I will kill the other Queens to make it so."

* * *

**Here's a quick recap of the characters introduced so far~!**

**Alfred F. Jones (America)= King of Spades**

**Arthur Kirkland (England)= Queen of Spades**

**Wang Yao (China)= Jack of Spades**

**Lukas ****Bondevik (Norway)= Ace of Spades**

**Ivan Braginsky (Russia)= King of Clubs**

**Feliks Łukasiewicz (Poland)= Former King of Clubs**

**Toris Laurinaitis (Lithuania)= Ace of Clubs**

**Matthew Williams (Canada)= Ace of Hearts**

**Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia)= Joker**

**Mathias Køhler (Denmark)= Joker**

**I hope that helps!**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	3. Cross My Heart

**This is War**

**A Cardverse story.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Cross My Heart**

* * *

The albino Joker sits perched on a tree, humming a song to himself as he watches the King of Spades through his study window. The rhythm to the music is portrayed through the tapping of his foot as he sways back and forth, humming the delightful tune.

"The Spade has chosen a boy with great strength, but with the type of heart he has his country shall surely faint." He sings, tipping his head back to the sky as he smirks to himself. No one could hear him, even as his voice carries through the air.

"The man that bears the Heart is as cold as ice; managing to rule his kingdom with a bark and a bite." A little spark of pride ignites his heart before it dissipates.

"The man that has the Diamond can hardly do a fight. He is better at his job as a thief in the night." He sighs softly, feeling the wind caress his face. This is his least favorite verse of all, but nonetheless he sings it.

"The King of Clubs is a man known only by power and greed. Through assassination, he led the country to misery." His head rests against the trunk of the tree, making his back pop.

"There four Card Kings will fight to the bitter end. They will destroy each other until a victory's at hand."

Humming the rest of the lyrics in his head, he casts another glance at the pacing form of the King of Spades. Things are going to get interesting. Never in the history of the Card countries was a King so ambitiously vengeful. It is a close second to Ivan, but attacking all three countries at once… Even for a kingdom of power, they easily would be destroyed in the effort.

"While some will die, others will live. Countries will fall until there's nothing left to give."

The Joker watches the swirls of cobalt mingling with ivory, forming a fine mid-summer day amidst the turmoil and chaos rocking the country. Within the next seven days will be the Card meeting, and then soon after, the fate of the countries shall change. It is almost guaranteed the King will not act until after the meeting, if he truly plans to keep his word. He saw the heated exchange between the King and the Ace of Clubs. Perhaps he would act sooner, if he is provoked.

"This is… as you would say… curiouser and curiouser." He chuckles to himself, standing up to balance precariously on the thin tree branch. Stabling himself as if on a beam, he walks the length back and forth, unafraid of the height he is at.

"This has turned out to be very interesting indeed. I don't think the Cards could have predicted that a Spade was going to use his power brutally. Hell, it probably wasn't expecting Ivan to get so lucky either." He reaches up, stripping a branch of its leaves, allowing the wind to sweep them from his palm.

"There has been interesting changes in the Kingdom, but curiouser of them all is the new Queen of Spades. I wonder who the unlucky person will be. The Spade could hold out until Alfred's regained his cool, but usually it doesn't go without a host for three days. Hmmm… Quite a predicament isn't it?" He squats down, looking through the panes of glass again. The King has left the study, finally assuming some sort of duty.

"Could he really kill the Queens?" He wonders softly, picturing the rather innocent victims of Alfred's near insanity. That would be Lilli from the Diamond Kingdom… Kiku from the Hearts and… Elizabeta from the Clubs. He makes an almost pained expression, before shrugging it off. Lilli and Kiku would be a real loss. And Kiku is best friends with the Spade King. It's highly doubtful he can carry out his absurd plan. Straightening out his legs, he sits down once again, dangling his numb extremities over the side.

"He couldn't. I mean, they don't just choose a Spade because they're strong. They have to be able to control the power, considering the Spade country is strongest by far. It's why Ivan wasn't quite lucky enough to be born here. I can only imagine the damage if he had been." Growing restless in the country, the Joker snaps his fingers, evaporating his body into nonexistence, before returning to a castle consumed in red. He likes the red. It matches his eyes.

"Hey Luddy~" He calls, his voice ringing throughout the halls. Perched upon a throne, and non-too pleased with the Joker's arrival, is the King of Hearts.

"What do you want Gilbert?" His Joker of a brother only comes around for two reasons: one he is hungry or two he knew something he probably shouldn't know. It is safe to assume it is the latter.

"Why would I want something Luddy~? Maybe I came to see my bruder."

The King of Hearts pinches the bridge of his nose, "For the last time, it's Ludwig, not that pet name."

"Luddy~" He coos, only to anger the King further.

"Gilbert~!" A voice cries happily, as the owner of said voice bounds into the room to greet him.

"Hey Feli!" The Jack of Hearts smiles at hearing his little pet name.

_At least someone appreciates it. _The Joker thinks smugly.

"Do you have some interesting news?" He asks, his head cocked in curiosity.

"Ja! But since Luddy doesn't want to hear it, I'll tell you." The King shakes his head and sighs. There are only so many times he can put up with a Joker before he could be declared legally insane.

"I feel so honored Gilbert!" The Jack bows, a childish smile ever present on his face, "Please do tell."

"Well…" Making his way up to the throne, he sits on one of the armrests, leaning into his brother much to the younger's dismay, "It's about Alfred."

In that moment, the playfulness is gone, and the atmosphere grows serious. It must be a grave topic to be talking about him so soon after the Spade Queen's death.

"I've heard what he plans to do and it won't be good."

"Details." Ludwig nudges his brother, expecting an immediate response.

He doesn't receive it.

"I think I should wait quite frankly." He rubs his chin, practically teasing his brother as he feigns deciding.

"If it's important, then we should know ahead of time." The King insists.

If Gilbert had not been chosen as a Joker, he would've told his brother in a heartbeat. But with the professions came certain restrictions and one of Gilbert's to not give a straight forward answer.

And to piss them off, but that is a side job.

"You know, now that I think about it, it'll be brought up at the meeting of the Cards. You can wait till then."

"But Gilbert~!" The Jack whines.

A smirk spreads across his face as he shrugs his shoulders, "Sorry Feli~ I'd hate to be the spoiler."

"If you just came to do that, I swear…" Ludwig shakes his head.

"And if I did~?"

"I'd kill you."

He looks at his brother, gasping exasperatedly as a look of astonishment passes over his face, "Oh Luddy you wouldn't!"

"I'm close to arresting you if you don't stop being a brat."

The Joker pouts, "Geez. That's mean. You think you would be nicer to your one and only awesome sibling."

"I'm so lucky aren't I?" He says dryly, receiving an eye roll from his brother.

"Nope~! That's why you were born in the country of Hearts and not the Clubs." He pokes his nose.

"That explains everything."

"So where's the Queen?" He jumps up, slinging an arm around the Jack, "Isn't he supposed to be, I don't know doing Queenly stuff?"

"Kiku is visiting Arthur's grave thank you very much. He will be returning shortly with the Jack of Spades."

Gilbert's eyebrows furrow together in confusion, "The Jack of Spades? Why would you need him?"

"Advice."

"Aw, you have a wonderful Jack here Luddy!" The Joker pulls up the ends of Feliciano's mouth, spreading a smile across his face, "See how adorable this guy is? Wouldn't you want to get advice from him?"

"His answer for everything is pasta."

"Vee~! It's true~" Feliciano laughs, enjoying the attention he is receiving from the overly friendly Joker.

"Besides, I need advice on the Spades. I'm afraid of what they will do."

_If only you knew brother. _Gilbert inwardly frowns. _If only you knew…_

"So you said Kiku went to the Spade country?" He inquires, pulling away from the Jack to meet his brother's gaze seriously. It is in these moments that Ludwig can hardly believe a Joker is before him.

"Ja."

"Did you send an escort with him?"

"Nein. I didn't because of his good relations with the King." Gilbert nods his head, deeply submerged in thought, "Is there something you would like to tell me brother?"

The Joker is oblivious to the question. Sighing again, the stress strains the King's brain. Nothing could be good as a result of the Joker's visit. It is like a raven, a symbol for something worse to come. And if it involves the Spade country, Ludwig could only imagine how brutal it would turn out to be.

"Well if you don't mind brother, I have work to do, and you have people to pester. You should go bother Francis or something."

Again he is promptly ignored. Ludwig hardly feels like a king in his own country.

_Why me? _He wonders vaguely. _Why me? I truly am the unlucky one._

Feliciano pokes the Joker, snapping his from his stupor.

"I should be going. See ya later bro~" Ludwig waves a hand as his brother vanishes, relieved to have order finally restored.

"That was weird~" Italy notes, sighing happily.

"It was." The King agrees, shutting his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts. A shadow falls across his eyelids, causing him to open them again. His Jack is upon him, his thighs on either side of Ludwig's as those sinful lips near his own.

"Since Kiku is gone…" He whispers seductively in his ear, his breath hot against his skin, "We should use this time wisely."

Ludwig shivers, a rare sign from the King of Hearts, "Nein Feli we can't. I have work." He protests weakly, wanting nothing more than the Jack to kiss him, despite their relationship being forbidden.

"Lud~!" His lips descend on the King's, devouring every last protest remaining. The King of Hearts gladly returns the jester, twisting his arms around his waist to pull the Jack closer. It probably isn't the smartest place to do such an activity, considering it is the throne room, but Ludwig has neither the reason nor the care to lead his secret lover to the privacy of their bedroom.

"Luddy…" The King is about to correct him when his voice mummers again in his ear, "I want you…" His warm mouth latches onto his neck, sucking on the junction between his throat and his shoulder. A quiet groan escapes his lips as the Jack works his magic, melting the King underneath his touch.

"Make me yours again Lud~" He kisses him hard, plunging his tongue into Ludwig's mouth the moment he gains access. The King loves this side of his Jack, the part that makes him crave for more touch than he could have. While Feliciano ravishes his mouth, his fingers make their way up his shirt, tracing patterns down his back as he draws him closer. His Jack arches into his touches, trailing a finger down his chest, seeking that special destination when—

The Queen of Hearts returns.

Feliciano has never jumped from Ludwig's lap so quickly as he moves to stand beside his throne as a Jack would do. Upon his arrival, the Queen of Hearts could tell his companions had been engaging in other affairs. Their disheveled clothes and swollen lips spoke volumes. Ludwig coughs, as if he could cover up that fact that that just happened.

"H-how was it?" He asks, gathering the wits Feliciano so cleverly scattered.

Kiku smiles innocents, assuring them he saw nothing, when the truth is far from it, "The travel was long but… I received my closure." He bows to the King, "Thank you for allowing me to do so."

"You are a Queen, not a peasant. When you need to do something, you may." Kiku nods, but they both know the Queen will always ask permission before doing tasks. It is only the nature of the Queen of Hearts.

"Was it pretty?" The Jack asks softly, straightening his clothes a little to distract himself from the little problem he acquired.

"Hai. It was. The people had decorated it very beautifully. I think it would make Arthur-san happy."

"And the Jack? Where is he?" Ludwig questions, causing the Queen to frown.

"He is under arrest. I could not get him out."

Ludwig raises an eyebrow, "Under arrest? Why?"

"King Alfred had thrown him in prison."

Feliciano gasps, "That's terrible!"

"I tried to negotiate but King Alfred would not come out. He continued to yell at me something about he wouldn't change his mind."

"I see…"

_The situation must be worse than we thought. _Ludwig considers.

"I will have to check in, in a day or two. Queen Elizabeta requires my council regarding Queen Arthur. May I see her?" It is a lie, but the Queen feels bad for interrupting the young lovers.

"Ja. Be careful." Kiku nods before leaving, allowing both of them to relax.

"I don't think he noticed!" The Jack sighs in relief, looking at his lover.

"That was too close Feli. We shouldn't do that here."

The Jack pouts, "But Luddy!"

"I said not here Feli! Keep your voice down. We can do it if we go to mein room."

"Oh okay!" The Jack eagerly pulls his King from his chair, dragging him off to his desired destination.

It is quite a common sight in the castle, so none of the servants paid it any mind, even when the Jack joins the King in his bed chamber to continue right where they left off. The whole ordeal of the day is forgotten like their clothes. It is a game of passion that his Jack leads the King into, at the strangest of moments, but the King could hardly complain. He loves every moment spent with his Jack, even if it is in the seclusion of his bedroom. Sometimes it is hard to keep their private life from colliding with their royal life.

It is understandable. If their relationship was between a Queen and a King, at least it was accepted. A Jack is there to provide advice only. Their opinion would not be as great if it is swayed by emotions, so relationships between a Queen and a Jack or a King and a Jack are firmly frowned upon. Ludwig hardly cares though. He had loved Feliciano before the Heart accepted him as King, and the same could be said for the Jack. Kiku had been aware since the very beginning and didn't mind. He wasn't the one to spoil something as beautiful as their relationship.

The Queen smiles at the memory of the way they exchanged glances, telling each other 'I love you' without giving anything away. They are truly made for each other, no matter how different they are. The Kingdom of Hearts is unique. There is a good reason why Ludwig does not seek advice from his Jack because one, there are two of them, and two, they completely contradict each other in every way. Feliciano's brother, Lovino, really rose eyebrows making people wonder what the Heart symbol looks for. Although Feliciano is around more frequently, Ludwig could not have one opinion without the other.

Besides, it isn't like the pasta thing is untrue.

Changing from his traveling clothes, the Queen stares at his reflection in the water of the sink. The image is distorted, rippling softly as the sink slowly fills, collecting the light of a nearby candle to allow Kiku visibility. His eyes are sunken and ringed with fatigue, truly showing how many nights the Queen went sleepless. Such a peaceful dimension has evaded him since the abrupt death of the Spade Queen, and he understands why: Guilt is haunting him. It was not like the Heart Queen committed the crime himself. He just knew it was going to happen.

Dipping his hands into the water, he splashes his face a few times, dissolving the rest of the powered on his face. His skin is far too pale for it to be healthy, or so he was told; so like anything deemed unfit, he covered it up. For a moment, his contact with the water causes his reflection to dissipate. Resting his arms on the countertop, he sighs.

"How can I tell Alfred I could have prevented it?" He mummers to himself, a sharp intake of breath stinging his heart.

He waits patiently for his reflection to be restored, seeing the way the guilt burns through him. He hates it. However, being the Queen he was, he doesn't dare relay his worries to the King or his Jack. No one understands that his very guilt plagues his life.

"It was just a dream." He justifies, talking to his mirrored self as if it could agree with him, "It shouldn't be true. It should've been fake."

He receives no comfort from the water, making him shake his head.

"Alfred would kill me if he knew…" Sighing, he stares at the candle flickering on the countertop, its pale flame dancing back and forth on the wick. It casts long shadows in the room, being the only remaining light. The sunset has long since died off at the horizon, as if it too was a candle.

"I'm so sorry Arthur. I'm sorry… I could've saved you…but I ignored all the signs. You could be alive right now if it wasn't for me." He extends his hand, reaching for the flame.

"I will do my best to help your King in your place. If I could… I gladly would've switched places with you." Biting his lip, he composes himself again, allowing the emotions to drain from his system like the water in the sink.

"I will fix this. I promise friend… cross my heart and hope to die." His fingers clasp the flame, ending its life, and cast the room into darkness.

* * *

**Here's the Recap!**

**Alfred F. Jones (America)= King of Spades**

**Arthur Kirkland (England)= Queen of Spades**

**Wang Yao (China)= Jack of Spades**

**Lukas Bondevik (Norway)= Ace of Spades**

**Ivan Braginsky (Russia)= King of Clubs**

**Feliks Łukasiewicz (Poland)= Former King of Clubs**

**Toris Laurinaitis (Lithuania)= Ace of Clubs**

**Ludwig Beilschmidt (Germany)= King of Hearts**

**Honda Kiku (Japan)= Queen of Hearts**

**Feliciano Vargas (Italy)= Jack of Hearts**

**Lovino Vargas (Romano)= Jack of Hearts**

**Matthew Williams (Canada)= Ace of Hearts**

**Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia)= Joker**

**Mathias Køhler (Denmark)= Joker**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	4. The Last Laugh

**This is War**

**A Cardverse story.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Last Laugh**

* * *

Not far off from the Heart Kingdom lays the impressive splendor of the Clubs. As a matter of fact, someone none too pleased had been awakened in his slumber, by none other than a Joker.

"What do you expect me to do about it?" The Jack of Clubs eyes the albino Joker warily. When he arrives in the dead of night, it is neither good nor enjoyable. The poor Jack had been asleep in his bed, counting sheep until his heart's content. It is just his luck that the Joker decided to barge into his room and make demands so late into the night.

"I expect you to keep Elizabeta in your sight Roderich." The squatting Joker states, his feet digging into the Jack's mattress.

The Jack stitches his eyebrows together, "Why? I'm not her keeper Gilbert."

"Didn't your mother teach you to trust a Joker?" He smirks, jabbing his side with his finger.

"Couldn't this have waited until morning?" Roderich yawns, remembering the speech his King was to give at dawn.

"Nein. Just listen to me Roderich."

The Jack sighs when the albino grows serious. A carefree Joker is better than a somber one.

"What has gotten you riled up Gilbert? What has been going on?"

"It's the Spade King. He's dangerous."

The Jack rolls his eyes, "When is he not."

Roderich is alarmed when the Joker threads his fingers into the collar of his shirt, hoisting him from his bed to be with the Joker face to face.

"Unhand me." He grabs the other's wrist, unable to match the Joker's strength in order to be released.

"Do not let Elizabeta go alone anywhere. Got it?"

The Jack searches his blood red eyes, the mark of a Heart born Joker, for answers he could not receive.

"Why can't you? You obviously have plenty of time on your hands."

The Joker releases Roderich, letting him fall back against the sheets. He is a hopeless cause. Gilbert should have known better than to ask the Jack of Clubs.

"Do what you want Edelstein," The Jack shoots the albino a questioning gaze at the use of his last name, "But if something bad happens, don't say the Joker didn't warn you."

He snaps his fingers, teleporting himself to some other sorry soul. Swiping his fists over his eyes, Roderich snatches his glasses from his bedside table and puts them on. He gets up, his bare feet wading across the cold surface of the floor. He collects a robe, threading each arm through before exiting into the hall, drawing the robe tighter around him when the chill of night seeps into the castle. The wide and beautiful window of the castle has curtains covering them, evaporating the moonlight before it has a chance to reach the inside. If Roderich hadn't been living here as long as he has, he would be easily frightened by the darkness and could get lost in the winding corridors of the Club's castle. Stifling a yawn, he locates a door, gently easing the mahogany wood open. Not a creak echoes through the room, allowing him a quick glance at the occupants without their waking.

The Queen of Clubs lays tangled in her bed sheets, her dark hair haloing around her head. The slight huff in her cheek signifies the best of sleep still evades her. Her chest gently rises and falls as she cranes her neck, pressing half of her face into the pillow. By doing this, she exposes the Club tattoo stretching dauntingly across her pale skin. In this position, deep in her dreams, the Queen is truly beautiful. She appears almost as an angel bound to such a breathtaking maiden. The Jack pauses a moment or two to admire her soft features, noting how well they complemented her slim and feminine figure. She is the pride of the Kingdom. Everyone adores her dearly, even the other kingdoms that have succumbed to the wrath of her spitfire attitude.

"If only." He whispers, his eyes trailing over the contours of her body in a trance, "If only…"

Shaking his head to snap him from his daze, he quietly closes the door. To an extent, the albino's words bother him. Gilbert was not known to lie, only annoy. A Joker is simply sent to tease, not to lead astray, therefore some of his message could ring true. But while she is in the castle, the Queen will be safe.

"But Arthur wasn't." He abruptly counters out loud.

He cringes at the thought, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He doesn't want to think about how he died so brutally and at the very hands of King he advises. Pressing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he sighs softly, letting his feet carry him to the next destination. Even in the dead of night, he knew who he sought would be waiting and the moment he stepped foot in the library, he is proven correct. Perched in his chair, observing the absurd weather swirling outside with a smirk firmly etched on his face, is the King of Clubs.

"My Lord." The Jack bows his respect before crossing the threshold.

The King nods his head in acknowledgement, unlatching his eyes from the chaos outside he had watched in amusement.

"What do you want?" He questions, his eyes flaring up in the candle light.

This is the man that murdered the Spade Queen, but the only evidence of such tryst lies in his hand, his knuckles bloodied and bruised. However now, the doctors have attended to the 'defensive' wounds with bandages. There is no way he could lie about it, and why would he? He prides himself for having slaughtered him.

"Gilbert appeared in my bed chamber." The King's eyes stay locked onto the Jack's face, unphased by the unknown name. He is unfamiliar with the personal names effective in their place, "The albino Joker."

"Ah yes. I remember." His smirk tightens, slowly fading away until a frown draws his lips downward, "What did he want?"

"He came with a warning." The Jack readjusts his robe, feeling underdressed in the presence of his King.

"A warning?" The gaunt shadows mask his face, creating a permanent glare that burns into the Jack's very core.

"He told me to not let Queen Elizabeta out of my sight. It has something to do with the Spade King." He explains.

The King waves his hand as if to cast away such words, "Such warnings are vile from the Joker's mouth. It is a lie and nothing more."

"But, sir—"

"It's a lie." The King cuts him off, gritting his teeth to prevent the vile remarks left on his tongue, "And nothing more."

The Jack wearily nods his head, bowing in apology, "I am sorry for pressing the matter I shall return back to my bed." He turns to leave, only pausing when the King speaks again.

"The New Spade Queen is coming, Roderich. May hell accompany them." He chuckles darkly, chilling the Jack to the bone before he retreats to his room.

The world outside the window in all its turmoil causes another smile, cruelty curling his mouth to form the most sinful of such. The weather is a reflection of the Spade King's heart and the Club King just _reveals_ in the fact that he was behind such a chaotic creation.

"It's all like one big chess game," He speaks softly, letting his fingers dig into the upholstery of his chair, "And this is checkmate Alfred."

Laughter rattles his chest, burning his lungs as he chuckles long and hard at the memory of the Queen beneath his hands, telling his beloved Alfred to run. It is all too amusing to him, causing this dark melody of hearty laughter to erupt from his lips until tears begin to surface in his eyes and his chest aches with the fact.

"One more false move and I win. It's your turn Spade King. Let's see what you are made of."

His lilac eyes burn a hole through the darkness as that one last laugh still evades him yet. He will soon have his moment though.

"In the end, you're going to lose. So let's see your last resort, because only I will have the last laugh."

The sneer returns to his face, "What are you going to do about it, Alfred?

* * *

**Yes. What will he do?**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	5. Judge, Jury, and Executioner

**This is War**

**A Cardverse story.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Judge, Jury, and Executioner**

* * *

Wine glasses clink together, a melody of chatter evaporating the silence with ease. Utensils are put to use, tearing apart the delectable dinner that leaves the tasters scraping at their plates. Prestige members, all of high rankings, encompass the mahogany table in boisterous laughter and approval for the enticing meal. At the head of the table sits the King of Diamonds, casually sipping a bit of wine as he observes his guests with amusement. To his right is his Queen, her fitful eyes downcast, and to the left is his Jack, his appetite long since evading him. Despite what the hardy atmosphere suggests, the King did not call the meeting to order for the sake of a good time. There are far more serious matters at hand.

Tapping a knife against a wine glass three times, his audience is enraptured with the rich beauty of their King and falls into silence. He is a powerful speaker if and only if he looks good doing so. If that's the case, then he can manipulate them into almost anything.

Laughing, he casts a smile to the guests, "Thank you for joining us to enjoy such a wonderfully prepared dinner."

The smile on his face disintegrates, "But we are not here to make a few simple toasts I'm afraid."

He paused briefly, taking a sip of wine to sooth his throat. Crying has taken its toll on him, "As some of you are aware, the Queen of Spades was murdered. Quite recently." Those who weren't aware, gasp.

"Records show an assassination like this has never been made by a different Kingdom. All non-honorable murders have been done by a fellow countryman." The Jack adds. A few guests cast a nervous glance around. The King taps his temple a time or two, before speaking again.

"The Ace of Diamonds, a dear friend of mine, warned me that the Spade King has permission to start a war. He did not disclose details."

A nervous partyer interrupts the King midstream, "Who was the murderer? As the Jack said, he was not of the Spade Country."

The King locks gazes with the man, chilling him straight to the core. There is nothing but burdens stacked in his eyes.

"Ivan Braginsky killed him." A pestering silence ensues.

No one could believe the King of Luck would make such an unlucky move.

"It is not the first time he's murdered and won't be the last," The Jack points out, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten, "Unless he is stopped."

"This is not a democracy." The King sits his wine down and gets to his feet, "But I do favor the opinions of others." He presses his palms flat into the table's surface, looking each man in the eye individually.

"As Vash pointed out, if Ivan is not stopped, any other member of the Cards could be a victim. It's imperative that we act." He brushes a hand through his hair, feeling it tickle his neck, "I know I don't have good relations with the former Spade Queen." He sighs at the very memory evoked from it, "But nevertheless, Alfred is a good friend, and for him this is a very brutal time."

"Are you suggesting we side with the Spades? Need you forget what happened the last time we trusted a country of power!" A guest blurts out, his eyebrows drawn into a tight line.

"I have yet to forget." The King replies curtly. It feels as if it was yesterday, although it was not.

"That was when Allistor ruled though. He's just as unpredictable as Ivan. Alfred is different." Vash defends. The man rises to his feet, daring to the challenge the royalty of his country.

"He lost the Queen who we all know he loved. Who's to say he's in the right mind too?" The guest counters.

The King plops heavily back into his seat, but his Jack has yet to give up.

"I will not let Ivan have a chance to murder anyone else."

"You just mean your sister." The Queen raises her head at the mention of her, "You only want to keep her from being killed since she is a Queen. Am I wrong?"

He is right but upon so, he crosses a line.

In a flash, the Jack is up and his sword is whipped from its hilt, the blade pressing horizontally to the man's jugular. He is not fazed by the violent fury of Vash. He is prone to such out bursts.

"Big brother…" The Queen whispers, her eyes wide with worry.

"If your little sister, your only sister could be in danger, wouldn't you want to save her? Wouldn't you want to protect her like a big brother should?" Vash snarls.

"Vash. You're pushing it." The King lays a hand on his shoulder, "Lower your weapon."

The Jack does not obey.

"Shouldn't you, as a citizen of the Diamond country, want to protect your Queen and King with everything you have? We cannot be weak. We cannot be defeated like the Spade Country. Our wealth is in abundance, in money, strength and happiness. Why let one King take that away from us?" Despite the threatening manor he is currently in, the other guest rally with him, jeering their approval.

"Shouldn't we be the ones to act first, to show them who can be the stronger country?"

"Ya!"

"Should we kill Ivan first?"

"Ya!"

"Make him pay for his crimes?"

"Yes!"

One last man remains unchanged, and it is the one Vash has his blade firmly planted on.

"Shall the Country of Diamonds be the Judge, Jury, and Executioner?!"

"Yes!"

The King shakes his head. The Jack could rile up an army with his attitude. He would admit though, it helps him when his own charms seem to evade him.

"I suppose it's settled then. We will get Ivan first?" The King verifies, taking another sip of wine.

The men respond with an erratic 'yes'. Dabbing his lips of any remaining substance, he nods to his Jack respectively as he sheaths his weapon, and plants his body back in the chair.

"Excellent speech." He notes when the guests return to their bustling conversations.

"You said it wasn't a democracy, so I don't know why I had to do that."

The King smiles softly, "Sake of appearances Vash. Sake of appearances."

He huffs, "What isn't these days."

"Nothing I'm afraid. I believe you'll have to give another grade A performance in two days' time."

"The Meeting of the Cards."

The King nods his head in confirmation. The Queen is fidgeting, pretending to focus on her meal, but all-the-while overhears the two's side conversation.

"Should we act then? Kill Ivan when he's defenseless?"

"Not with so many countries about. And if Roderich and Elizabeta were to counter," He could see the slight stiffen in his Jack, "We would have an unnecessary fight on our hands."

"What do you suppose we do then?"

"Leave our actions until after the meeting. Then, we can act. As you would say, 'Judge, Jury, and Executioner', correct?" He raises his glass expectantly.

Vash toasts with his King, downing the remainder of his wine, "Judge, Jury, and Executioner."

The Queen nervously casts a glance around, having heard exactly what they said. It doesn't sit well in her stomach. As much as she wants to help the Spade Country, every fiber of her being screams for her to prevent her dear big brother from committing such a crime. She bites her bottom lip hard, fidgeting more in her seat. She could not bring herself to act, and instead continues to eavesdrop on the continued conversation.

"As Executioner," Vash looks at his King when he hears his soft voice, "What shall be his punishment? I am against inhumane things, however…" The Queen's heart skips a beat, "I think I can make an exception in this case."

"A punishment…" The Jack tilts his head back, staring up at the wood panel ceiling.

"I want something appropriate for his crimes." The King twirls the wine glass in his dexterous fingers, "For both murders. Arthur and Feliks. He deserves it as such."

Vash nods his head in agreement, "Should we bring this to the attention of the Spade King? I'm sure he can find a fitting end to the Club King."

The Diamond King considers it, "Fair game I would think. Send word personally to the Spade King of this and see what his opinion is." The Jack gets to his feet, "Please see to it that you return back before the Meeting of the Cards."

The Jack bows low to his King, before turning to leave. A few guests usher a quick goodbye, while others are too engrossed in their conversations to notice. The Queen reaches out for her sibling, barely managing to brush his fingers before he is gone, already heading for the Spade Country. Tears bubble in her eyes. Her brother never failed to say goodbye to her. Was this task more important than her?

She curls her fist over her heart, feeling the first few tears trickle down her face. The King notices this in a heartbeat.

"Mon cher." He gently peels her hand away from her quivering chest to softly caress the skin. The King hardly loves the Queen like Alfred did Arthur. Vash would have his head if he dared to do such a thing. "It will be okay. Vash will be home soon."

"It's not that Francis." Her voice is barely audible, contained by the tears freely flowing down her cheeks, "It is what he will do that makes me sad."

Pulling her hand away and hastily wiping the tears, the Queen stands, "Please excuse me." Without another word, she hurries from the dinning room.

Eventually, like the dying flame on the candle wick, many of the guests take their leave and disappear into the darkness of the night until no one but Francis remains, now occupying himself with a new glass of wine. The maids have long since cleaned the table, draping dark covers over the glossy surface to preserve it. Swirling the dark liquid around in his glass, he watches as the essence swallows the flickering light.

"We are living in a different time now. Things are changing." Enraptured by the wine, he simply talks to it, as if it could respond with its own answers.

"What will become of the entire world?" He snaps his vision from the liquid, gazing about him in fascination, "What will happen to all this? Will it change too? My Kingdom…" Pressing the glass to his lips, he takes a tiny sip. It feels bitter now on his tongue.

"Will I lose to Ivan? Could I?" No one comforts the King as he releases a sigh, tension building in his shoulders, "If so, it's imperative that we get him first. It's a priority… I'm sorry Alfred… I know you'd want to get him first, but I have to consider the safety of my people and right now, we are all in danger." Taking a deep breath, he drains the liquid down his throat, even as it leaves an acid-like taste afterwards.

"The Diamond country will act. Act as Judge, Jury, and Executioner."

* * *

**What will Alfred do if they get in the way of his revenge?**

**Dun dun dunnnn!**

**And yes, the title is a reference to the Walking Dead!**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	6. What the Cards Tell

**This is War**

**A Cardverse story.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: What the Cards Tell**

* * *

"Never had I expected for his curiosity to be so great." The fingers of a peculiar man curl and dig into the plush chair beneath him in thought. Sinking deeper into it, he stares fascinatingly around as he takes a big breath, his lungs wheezing of incense.

"Perhaps I should have locked the bookcase." Crossing a leg, he lets a pale hand drift over to the end table beside him, scooping up a deck of cards.

He chuckles to himself as if he found it funny, shuffling the group with the dexterity only his kind possesses.

"Or maybe he should learn to read." Riffling through the modified deck, he lets a painted nail graze over that of the Queen of Spades, the defiled card with a hole burnt straight through her face.

He hops up, the assorted beads around his neck jingling as he heads for his reading table, flipping the offended card between his fingertips in amusement. He likes the affairs of these symbol bearers. It makes for a quite a good show.

One of his toes bumps a jar, spilling the sand it once contained onto the creaking floor boards. Another bottle bobbles beside it, filled to the brim with spiders. All the fascinations the Queen of Spades once was enraptured in resided in this home, among the heavy drapery on the window panes and the low rafters. The dark wood every surface is composed of makes the room seem bleak, and only reflects the pale rays of candle wicks that flicker as he passes by. If there hadn't been so many of them scattered throughout the room, the home would be rendered pitch black.

The man plops the deck onto a table, and with his spare hand, he collects a handful of material hanging from his waist, holding it out of the way in order to sit down.

"Oh Ivan my dear friend…" He sighs dramatically, a devious smirk taking shape on his face, "If only you knew the cards as well as I do, perhaps things would be different." The incense is buzzing in his head, making his feel light and giddy, "But life wouldn't be as entertaining without it!"

Carelessly he elbows a stack of books towering beside him, allowing them to topple over and crash into the floor. It is a good thing the man is not claustrophobic. It is inconvenient that as a result, he is a hoarder of peculiar things.

"Oops~!" He chuckles, brushing a tuff of hair from his neck, "It was getting stifling in here anyway."

He sits down the Spade card delicately, before tugging his arms out of the heavy material of his over coat, and tosses it into a pile of animal cages, "Ah much better."

Once freed from its confinements, his arms glisten with sweat. Along the contours of his triceps are lines upon lines of tattoos like spider webs, spinning to form an identical set on each arm: A Spade, a Heart, a Club, and a Diamond. From the elbow down, a long pair of fingerless gloves covers the section of lines that wove together into something his customers wouldn't be fond of seeing.

"I wonder what the cards say today." He tucks the Queen back in with the others, shuffling the deck against his thigh before placing it, face down, back on the table.

The man extends his palms before him, breathing in deeply the scent of incinerated essences, and exhales slowly. An explosion of color erupts across the black lines of his tattoos, blistering it into a mixture of dull greens, oranges, reds, and blues. When he inhales steadily, the colors begin to flow, circulating to what lay hidden by the sleeves, and travels back up again at a rapid pace. Just when the motion of the color accelerates to the point its movement is no longer visible, he slams his hands into the table and disrupts it; the colors dissipate the moment his skin makes contact with the wood. The cards splatter on the table top from the force that rattles the table, but only three are overturned. Learning forward, he snickers at what he sees.

It is the Spade Queen, the face mysteriously restored, and the other two are tarot cards mixed into the deck. One bore the sign of the Wheel of Fortune, while the card next to it is that of Judgment in reverse. An interesting set indeed.

"The choice for the Spade Queen has been decided. Very curious~! And how will Alfred handle this?" He hops from his chair, knocking it back into a mirror that promptly shatters.

Goosebumps crawl along his skin before he can answer his own question, causing him to shiver. Slowly, the man turns around to the offended furniture, absolutely horrified.

"I suppose the Spade country isn't the only unlucky ones." He squeaks, "That's seven years of bad luck for me."

Pausing, he counts the tips of his fingers, "Or 49 years actually. Silly me, my mirrors break so easily."

He chuckles, however his body remains ridged. Normally he isn't so careless. What could possibly be the cause of such an ugly change of fate? What could happen next? Will he tip over a salt jar, or cross a black cat? Something must be wrong with the divines.

The incense rumbles through his brain, cleansing it of these worrisome thoughts.

"Oh well~!" He shrugs, tipping his head to the ceiling when he finds the cards to be boring.

Cobwebs spin around the rafters, weaving down onto the netting he had hung. Each hole of the net is big enough to house a potion bottle upside down, so the rounded bottom precariously shifts above his head. The various colors blend with one another, except in one particular spot where nothing but black is visible.

One potion is missing from its slot.

"Oh dear me. Did Ivan steal that too?" He plants his feet into the chair, scaling it onto the table so he could reach the net without a thought of how strange it would seem. The cards scatter and drift to the floor when he kicks them aside. Gripping the net to maintain his balance on the uneven surface, he names the contents of the potions by memory.

"Underwater Breathe, Health, Fire A-" He stops, his fingers drifting over the empty slot in realization, "Poison."

Hastily he leaps from the table, smashing a loose set of beads into the floor. He rips covers off of book shelves, yanks drawers unto the floor, and searches their contents while they scatter over the lingering the floor.

"It was here yesterday…" He rattles a few bird houses, not hearing a single board out of place. Tossing it away, he delves into another set of boxes, all potion-less.

"Where is it?!" Dumping a box full of mice, the search soon becomes fruitless.

His heart is thumping feverishly against his ribcage. That poison is a powerful sedative. It abruptly halts the blood flow to the heart, making the lethality of it high. Who could possibly want it…

"How could the cards not predict a thief among us…" He groans softly, tapping his index finger to his chin in thought, "What to do… I have to find it… if it's in the possession of a symbol bearer in a time like this…" Before he can dwell on it further, he hears the distinct chime of a bell.

A customer has arrived.

Abandoning the clutter accumulating on the floor, he moves to the door shrouded in assorted shawls and peeks trough the peep hole. The wind whistles beneath his feet as the incense induced smile nearly splits his face into two and erases the memory of the potions away. He throws the door open, letting it slam against the wall and crack the poorly made structure in his excitement. Presenting a low bow, he beckons the person in.

"Welcome King of Hearts." He eases the door closed behind the man, "Never would I think you would require my services."

"Neither did I." Ludwig wrinkles his nose. To him the smell is awful.

"I am honored sir King~!" He sings, stepping around him and leads him to his reading table. He snatches a tea cup off a tilting stack of books, wiping the dust off with the hem of his shirt.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Nein." The King responds, shaking his head, "I come for counsel, not your vile drinks.

This causes the man to laugh, "You flatter me! I can assure you my cooking is not as terrible as the former Spade Queen. There is nothing vile about my tea."

"I do not want your gloating, Reader. I want your answers." He dismisses him with a flick of his wrist, causing the Reader to frown. He is not to be ordered around in his own domain. He releases the tea cup, letting it shatter on the floor.

"I see." He clenches his teeth, snatching up his coat to pull it on.

_You can't show your aggravation. Just breathe deeply._ He reprimands himself, taking a deep breathe. A whiff of incense easily whips the emotions away.

"I will read your cards then!" He collects the deck he had scattered minutes before.

Ludwig watches, not amused, as he pushes objects out of the way and onto the floor in order to pick up one simple card. Pinching the bridge of his nose tightly in his fingers, he counts to three.

_You've dealt with a Joker before. This is nothing. _

"Ah here we go!" The Reader is back up, dusting the dirt from his pants. "I apologize. I had a mishap with my deck."

"You've had a mishap in your entire house." The King bluntly states, "It is hideous and I'm ready to leave this rat hole. Read my cards quickly. I have matters to attend to."

"Someone sure is tense." The offended man says, shuffling the cards.

"Its taboo to be here, least you forget. I do not like having to do this." Ludwig sighs.

"So why are you?" When he deems the shuffle descent, he again places them on the table facedown.

"I need some sort of guidance. I was unable to speak to Yao of the Spades, so this is my only other option."

The Reader chuckles, "Our you could use your own Jacks you know."

"Just hurry up!" He snaps.

Without hesitation this time, the Reader slams his hands into the table to scatter the cards. Again there are only three of them, and again the reading is the same as before.

"Curious…" He mummers.

Ludwig stares at the standard and tarot cards with equal confusion. He didn't know if it is bad, or good, but whatever it is, it is now permanently etched into fate. Such thoughts make him shudder. People do not go to the Reader for a good reason. Whatever he predicts, it will come true.

"So… what does it mean…?" He speaks slowly, wearily watching the Reader as he twirls a piece of hair, concentrating on the faces of the cards.

"I just had this reading moments ago. I never get the same result twice."

It feels as though as a shard of ice is piercing Ludwig's heart, numbing his entire chest, "What does it mean? Is it bad or good?"

The Reader lifts up each card, turning them over to make sure they truly are his, "Well it's good for some, bad for others."

The King of Hearts can't suppress a groan, "Do not speak to me as if you were a Joker. I hate those riddles. Give direct answers."

"I was fixing to tell you…" The Reader rolls his eyes.

Ivan was equally impatient to know, when he had been here.

"Well hurry up. You are taking too long."

The man can't help but voice his curious thoughts, "You are like Ivan."

The Reader squeaks, nearly dropping the cards when the King launches out of his chair, snatching him by the front of his jacket until their faces are nearly a few inches apart.

"Ivan has been here?" The Reader nods his head quickly, "Why."

The Heart King is terrifying when he is demanding. It does not mean he would get the answers he needs though.

The Reader chuckles nervously, "I'm afraid I do not remember."

"Liar."

"Even if I did, I could not tell you. The Card's prediction is in-between us and fate." He swings his feet back and forth, desperately trying to touch the cluttered ground when the King lifts him from it.

"Why would Ivan need a Reader?" Ludwig shakes him, "Answer me! Tell me what he got! His prediction will come true, and I must know what it is!"

The Reader's head snaps back and forth, his vision bobbling the more he is shaken violently. He is almost too dizzy to come up with an accurate response; so as a result, Ludwig begins to manhandle him viciously.

"Don't remember…" The colors of the world are swirling together, only snapping back into place when he is dropped to the floor, and his legs give out underneath him, "Ah…"

He holds his head in his hands, waiting a moment or two before standing up, when the King seems to have found his composure again.

"How about I read the card again and if-"

"Do not read them again. I don't want something worse to become permanent." Ludwig cuts him off, straining to not lunge for the Reader again.

"You will know your answers soon…"

"How soon." He grips the arms of the chair, his nails digging into the wood when he forces himself to sit down.

The Reader stuffs his hand into his pocket, pulling out a harmless looking die. Without a second thought, he tosses it onto the table, watching as it twirls on one corner before coming to a standstill. The number two is facing up.

"You will know in two days." The Reader responds, snatching up the die before the King's curious fingers could touch them.

"The Meeting of the Cards…" Ludwig mummers under his breath, "At the Meeting, I will know my answer?"

The Reader nods his head, his bangs shifting around his face to cast shadows over his eyes, "You will."

That is all the King of Hearts needs to know. He stands up, picking his way through the monstrosity to exit the Reader's house. He does not want to risk getting caught in such a disastrous and dangerous place, but the thought of Ivan being there still burns in his brain.

"Good bye sir King~!" The man calls after him, waving cheerfully at his departure, "Don't die on your way home okay~!"

When the Heart King slams the door shut behind him, the Reader breathes a sigh of relief, sinking down into his chair, "I thought he was going to kill me…" A faint trace of his country remains lingering on the air. The Reader doesn't like the smell, and tries to wave the foreign scent away.

"Why did the cards read twice…?" He wonders aloud, tapping his foot against the ground. He has to know.

"Will it do it a third?" He resets the reading, and with another jarring slam to the already deteriorating table, he stares at the cards before him in shock, and sudden dread. One was a man, hanging limply on a noose, and the other is a depiction of Death himself.

"The Hanging Man and Death…" He gasps softly, "Oh dear me…"

Scooping up the cards, he cradles them close, knowing this reading is by far the worst he's ever made. To make matters even worse, now it is permanent, and will enviably come true.

"I can only know one thing for sure…" He whispers, wishing the incense could banish this awful feeling coiling in the pit of his stomach. Never mind that he was almost killed by the Heart King. Forget that a bottle of poison is missing from his stock.

This is much worse.

"Something awful is going to happen." He sinks even lower in his chair, quickly praying to every divine he ever knew, "And it will change the four Kingdoms forever."

* * *

**What will happen?! Stay tuned~!**

**-Soul Spirit-**


	7. Ugly Memories

**This is War**

**A Cardverse story.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Ugly Memories**

* * *

In the darkness of his cell, the Jack of Spades could not see anything but the pestering darkness. It is like a screen is set over his eyes, and if he had not known any better he could've been blindfolded. No candle light could penetrate the blackness, not even the distant flicker of a flame at the guard's post. The Jack had only been condemned a few days earlier, yet it feels like years since he's last seen the sunlight filtering into the room. All he can do is trace his fingers along the floor, feeling every crack that marred the surface. It is freezing down in the dungeons, causing his bones to grate against each other painfully. Coughing hard, his raw throat scratches at his voice, nearly making him soundless. He rubs his neck, trying to sooth the pain, but all it does is rattle the ache in his body again.

All the Jack is capable of is staring in the direction of what he believes to be the cell door.

"What will become of the Kingdom?" He whispers brokenly into the darkness, feeling the scruff of his sore throat when he swallows thickly.

Nevertheless, he continues to speak. Hearing a voice eases his mind.

"Why Arthur? Why did you have to leave?" He shuts his eyes, noting that the inside of his eyelids are just as dark and depressing as the cell. Thinking hard, he begins to conjure up a memory long since buried by the turmoil of the chain events, in order to banish the terrible feeling he has burrowing in his stomach.

"What in the world are you doing aru?" It was a year ago, when the Jack had caught his Queen in the midst of an incantation.

"A spell." Came the blunt reply.

"Why?!" The Jack shook his head, unable to comprehend the royalty of his country. Some of the things they did were reckless.

"It's called practice Wang Yao. I've been reading." He replied abruptly, his finger firmly planted on the book where he left off.

"You mean you've been snooping. You know as well as I do you can't get those books except if you steal them from the Reader." The Jack pressed his fists into his hipbones as the Queen smiled cheekily.

"Does it matter~!" He sang, a rare show of public happiness. The slight switch in his tsundere attitude caused the Jack's lips to twitch into a smile.

"I guess not. What the Reader doesn't know won't hurt him… but please be careful alright?" Sometimes, he felt like a parent and not the advisor, "That last time a spell went haywire, your heart nearly stopped. We were all in a panic."

"I remember, I remember. I won't do it again." The Queen dismissed him with a flick of his hand, resuming his stoic and normal personality.

"I'm going to send King Alfred to check on you in a little bit." The Jack headed for the door, speaking over one shoulder.

"Uh-huh." Arthur absentmindedly replied, already lost in the dance that is the magic.

The Jack shook his head. Sometimes, Arthur would never change.

He opens his eyes again. The memory is shattered when he realizes tears are rolling down his face. A bitter, strangled whimper leaves him as he draws his legs close, burying his face into his clothes. He misses the Queen he has guided ever since he was a small child and the Spade recently summoned him to the throne. He raised him like his own, as he did for Alfred, making his heart sting with the realization that he would never see him again. He would never be able to direct him again with his advice, or to see him smile, or protect the wellbeing of his people. Everything that Arthur was did not change. It simply died with him.

"The spell… why didn't I stop you that day…" He moans, his voice muffled by the fabric of his clothes, I could have kept you alive if I had done that… if I had-"

His shoulder quivers as another cry wracks his body, he mind reeling with the idea that he could've prevented it all.

"You said you would be careful… you promised you would watch your limits. You knew you couldn't handle it didn't you? You knew you would die, yet you still used it." He runs his fingers along the back of his neck, finding no comfort in the Spade symbol present there.

"We all love you Arthur. Why do you think you're a sacrificial piece?"

Another memory invades his senses, whispering to him of a different time when he had such answers.

"It's not a smart move Arthur. You could get yourself killed." He insisted, younger at the time, but still the wiser in age.

"I do not care. It they will pose a threat to my Kingdom, I as the Queen shall take care of it." Arthur was stubborn, far too stubborn for his liking.

"Getting yourself killed will not help the Kingdom. It'll weaken it." His emerald eyes met that of the Jack's, swimming with uncertainty, "I know you want to do what is the best and the quickest. If you let this play out, it will spare your life and the Kingdom won't be harmed."

The Queen sighed, his shoulders drooping, "I just don't want all this responsibility weighing down Alfred's shoulders. I at least want to manage some of the burden."

"I understand, but imagine what would happen if you put yourself in danger," The Queen looked away, "Trust me on this okay?"

"I trust you…" He mumbled halfheartedly.

The Jack of Spades becomes submerged in his memories, finding comfort in a special snapshot of when he was alive.

The glamour of a ball decorated the castle in glee. Housemaids were scurrying about, finishing the final preparations for what was known throughout the land as the Most Magical Night. A maid helped dress the Jack in his festive wares that squeezed his torso with the many layers. It was too thick for indoors, and the collar itched his throat, but if he failed to dress up Alfred would make an excuse not to as well. He smiled fondly at his image in the waters reflection at his sink when the maid left him. Despite the uncomfortable weight of his clothes, they reminded him fondly of his home. He couldn't help but be humbled to wear it. Before he can continue to examine his appearance, a knock on the door caught his attention.

"Yes?" He calls, readjusting the collar of his shirt.

"It's me." The Jack smiles softly at the sound of his Queen's voice.

He doesn't hesitate for a moment, "Come in Arthur."

The door opens softly, and closes in the same manner. The Jack looks to his Queen who was well dressed as well, except his top hat was replaced by traditional crown. He was only required to wear it to balls. His eyebrows were furrowed together and a look of anxiousness rattles him normally serious appearance.

"Something on your mind?" The Spade's Jack questioned, noticing his Queen fidgeting with his fingers.

"I don't think I should attend the ball." Arthur murmured, finding the floor easier to stare at then Wang Yao's face.

"Why's that?" The Jack gently touches his shoulder.

"I think Alfred is going to tell me something."

Yao raises an eyebrow, "Isn't that supposed to be good?"

"I think he's going to tell me he doesn't love me…" The Queen appeared devastated, as if it had already happened.

"Why would you say that…?" The Jack guided him to the bed, easing him down.

"Why wouldn't he say it." He planted his elbows on his knees, using his hands to keep his head up, "I mean he's seemed awfully… angry with me lately…"

The Jack chuckled. If only he knew.

"How about you just go, and see what happens. That's my advice." The Queen nodded his head numbly.

That was the night Alfred proposed to his Queen legitimately.

He could imagine the good times through the bad, creating a wistful smile to his face. He could almost imagine Arthur with perfect clarity, like he truly is still there, standing before him. Dwelling in his memories makes him unaware when the commander of the guard comes to his cell and unlocks the door. His booming voice is the only thing that reels him back to reality.

"Wang Yao, sir." He carries in a candle, allowing the flame to casts its light around the dungeon. The Jack cringes away from the sudden brightness.

"Y-yes…?" He covers his eyes, trying to shield its sensitivity.

When he manages to focus his eyes on the guards face, he knows the news is not good.

"The new Queen has arrived."

* * *

The Jack of Spades is only allowed freedom if he attended to the new Queen, considering the King is not in the right mind to do so; Wang Yao was quick to jump on the offer. His eyes burn painfully, making his eyes water the moment daylight slips through the window panes. Black spots explode across his vision, expanding to bubble across his sight, and nearly makes him half blind. Groaning softly, he rubs his irises, thankful when the guard begins to guide him by his arm.

"Thank you…" He mummers his gratitude, closing his eyes to watch the pulsation of morphing color behind his eyelids.

The guard gives a curt nod, something he could not see in his temporary blindness. Fluttering his eyes open, he blinks several times to dissipate the bubbles. The world pulls into focus again, snapping into place before his eyes.

Except, there is one blemish against the entryway, and it has a shock of red hair.

The Jack narrows his eyes at the sight of a man, the hostility between the two nearly tangible as he snarls, "Allistor."

Allistor's lips curl into a Devil's smirk.

"Or should I say, the former Spade King. Last time I recalled, you were banished. So why are you?" Yao crosses his arms, keeping his gazed pinned on his face. Nothing good could come from his visit that much is clear to the advisor.

"I was cheated." He justifies, the sneer permently inscribed on his face.

"You were a Knave, Allistor, and you still are." The words feel like bile in the Jack's mouth, bitter and ugly.

"Unrightfully so. You have to admit, I was the best damn king the country ever had. Better than the son of a bitch you got running the place now." The Jack wrinkles his nose at the use of such profanity.

There is a good reason why Allistor was banished from his position as King. He could not handle the power that comes with being a Spade. Wang Yao could easily recall the blood thirsty and borderline _barbaric _time in their history. It is something he never wants to be repeated.

"I will kindly ask you to leave the Kingdom immediately, Knave." He grits his teeth hard, resisting the urge to launch himself at him.

Allistor laughs, barking hard as if it is a funny statement, "It's an inappropriate name Wang Yao. It doesn't fit me."

"You disrespected this Kingdom. The Spade left you before you could even die. This Kingdom doesn't welcome a man like you anymore. Now leave. I have business to attend you." The Jack dismisses him, not before catching the expansion in the Knave's smirk.

Glaring hastily, he asks, "What?"

"I think you mean my Kingdom." Allistor corrects him, his expression widening even more at the confused look the Jack gives him.

"Not anymore."

"Now I am." He raises his right hand.

And at that moment, the Jack retches, releasing the bile eroding at his voice. Upon the skin of his hand is the Spade; in the identical place to Arthur's.

Allistor is the new Queen.

"Jack! Are you alright?" The commander rushes to his aid, catching him before he collapses in his own retching. Weak kneed, along with a weak stomach, the Jack nails Allistor with a death glare even as his body succumbs to the fears. His face pales further when once again, his gaze clashes with the tattoo.

_No… it couldn't be…_

"I'm back~!" The Knave sings, his deep voice vibrating throughout Wang Yao's body.

"No!" The Jack cries, launching himself at the Knave. His fingers cling to the front of his shirt in desperation. Alfred would lose it if he knew. Not only is Allistor a Knave, a banished member of royalty, but he is also Arthur's eldest brother.

As source of all his childhood pain.

The King _despises_ him.

"You can't be Queen. The Spade could never choose you." He is shaking hard, trembling in his own shoes.

Allistor meets his gaze, mischievous intentions playing in them. He hardly cared that his little brother is rotting in a grave, because now he has returned to power as result.

"It did choose me, Wang Yao. Just look." He practically rubs the tattooed skin in his face, mocking the Jack.

Wang Yao wants to faint. It is a tragedy that he has lost his Queen, someone that he considers his own, but now this; this is an absolute catastrophe. Out of the thousands of inhabitants dwelling in the Spade Country, it had to be _him._ What a fate bestowed on the kingdom.

"Problem?" Allistor chuckles, the greed of the past clouding in his eyes.

"Jack, let me escort you to the healer. You are deathly pale." The commander does not understand. Such secrets of Arthur's past had been kept hidden from the Kingdom.

Wang Yao brushes him off, unsteady on his feet.

"Leave." He orders the Knave, furry igniting in his own orbs. The Jack could always keep his temper in check. But now…

"Get out!"

The Jack of Spades is not fast enough. Allistor's fist singes the air, connecting to him square in the face. Inertia hurls him back, ultimately causing his head to bang against the floor. In the end, he is nursing a broken nose, gushing blood down his face, a possible concussion, and a shattered ego. The new Queen only stands over him, a look of up most disgust on his face.

"Do not talk back to me." He presses his foot into his stomach, making his sputter out his breaths, "You are beneath me again, Jack." He emphasizes each word by applying more pressure to his abdomen, "Or do you want to end up like Arthur?"

The Jack's eyes widen, not in pain, but by the way his mind promptly reminds him of Alfred, how his words mirrored that of Allistor's. Could the most incapable leader be ruling their Kingdom at that very moment? He isn't sure what to believe anymore.

The new Queen jerks his thumb in the direction Wang Yao came from, "Take him back and keep him quiet."

The Spade's Jack is hauled to his feet, and it takes a moment for him to regain his thoughts.

"Don't you dare." He snatches his arm away from the guard, evading a lunge with practiced ease even as his blood drips to the floor and his head throbs. His heart is lodged in his throat, but he manages to push the growing lump aside.

Wang Yao gets right up in Allistor's face, so close that his hot breath billows on his skin, "You will not ruin this Kingdom. He worked so hard to maintain it." His voice is low and threatening, something uncommon to the Jack's demeanor.

The guard reaches again, successfully hooking his arms around his stomach to maneuver him away.

"It's my Kingdom now Wang Yao." The Knave waves cheekily, enraging the Jack. He violently lashes out with his feet, trying to jar his arms from the iron clad grip in order to respond with his own punch.

"Alfred will kill you before you replace Arthur! You're a dead man!" His voice is growing raw but he doesn't let it falter, "You'll be rotting in your own grave Allistor! A Knave like you won't rule again. He will be the end of you and your greed!"

"I would like to see him try." He sneers.

"Then let's get started then."

Wang Yao's visions of exacting revenge on the Knave suddenly become unhinged the moment he hears that voice.

The voice of his King.

* * *

**Oh snap!**

**-Soul Spirit-**


End file.
